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H. D'A. B.
Major, 55th Division (B.E.F., France)
Marthe
MARTHE of the lowered eyes;
Eyes beautiful that seem to dim
Like violets at the water's rim,
Marthe of the lowered eyes.
Marthe of the pale, pale face;
That shows the anxious soul's suspense,
And sorrow veiled by reticence,
Marthe of the pale, pale face.
Marthe of the heart of gold;
Where hid as in a cloister-cell
Abides her love for him who fell,
Marthe of the heart of gold.
The March
LIKE lances of a phantom-troop
The rain sweeps by in level lines
Where stunted pollard-willows droop
And slag-heaps lift o'er gutted mines.
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